


After the War

by dutchmoxie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dutchmoxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Mount Weather, how is Bellamy Blake supposed to cope? He hides - can't let Clarke see him fall apart. Only, Clarke will always find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the War

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the BellarkeValentines, for forbellamy on Tumblr.

The battle for life and death always continued - it would never end. Bellamy Blake knew that much, even if his clothes had to hide his true identity yet again. He had gone from grounder gear to near-nakedness to a Mount Weather guard’s uniform within a matter of days. He’d faked it for so long that he’d hardly remembered what it felt like to be himself, feeling the sun on his skin and just breathing in the air.

Sometimes he had briefly forgotten the sound of his sister’s voice - there had hardly ever been enough time to talk to her when Clarke needed to discuss new battle plans and he always had to run to avoid being caught. But if he closed his eyes, he could hear his mother reading to him and feel little Octavia pressed to his chest.

There had been little to no human contact in Mount Weather. Maya and Bellamy had been well hidden as they schemed to rescue the 47 from their new containment area - leadership had changed and the old president had not had a capable second. Instead, the evil son had taken over, threatening more experiments and more of his people looking as close to death as Harper. That was what he had seen in his dreams on those cold nights: his sister as drained as Harper, begging him to kill her. Octavia turned into Clarke who blamed him for everything. He’d watched Finn die again and felt Raven fall apart in his arms - no, he did not sleep well at all. Something had to give soon, something had to get better.

Bellamy was certain that something had shifted while he was gone. Clarke was different now - or had she always sounded so damn certain that everyone would follow her? - and Octavia was always so busy trying to please Indra. His little sister had grown into quite the warrior, and he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t completely terrified something would happen to her. It had always been in his nature to worry, to hover, to be a little too protective over those he cared about.

He wondered when that very limited number of people began to include Clarke Griffin. Probably weeks before he consciously realized that he was actively protecting her, something that he had still done even from his distant location inside the mountain. Something he was still doing now that he was breathing fresh air again.

The tales his mother used to read sometimes involved magic and mountains, and part of him wondered if the author had even seen people living inside such a mountain. Not like this, he imagined. There had been no magical creatures in Mount Weather, no half-men and dwarves hiding treasure from their enemies. This was just a harsh and bitter fight for survival of the human race.

They had all adapted to fight it - Clarke Griffin most of all. She’d been a privileged brat on the Ark, she must have been, but sometimes he could hardly see that girl in the woman who was supposed to be at his side. The girl who landed was all about staying in touch with the Ark and following the rules that had been set out for them. This new person, his partner, his equal, only briefly hesitated before becoming an angel of mercy yet again. While Atom had meant very little to her, Bellamy was all too aware of how much Clarke loved Finn, and how his complete psychotic break had ruined one of the last people she could depend on.

Now that the threat of Mount Weather had been eliminated - at least for the time being - he wondered if he himself still made the list of people Clarke could depend on. He had barely even seen her since the dust settled, but maybe that was for the best.

Over the last few weeks, or months, he’d started having feelings for her that went beyond their usual co-leader partnership. He’d started thinking of her more, started thinking of maybe being partners in a different way. He’d started thinking of love, even though he knew that Clarke was never going to think of love again.

After everything went awry with Finn, she seemed to be trying to make herself believe that caring about people was a weakness, pushing away those closest to her. But he knew how wrong that was. Love was not a weakness. Love was strength, love was why he came down to Earth and why Octavia was a strong grown woman full of light. Love was why Clarke was still in one piece even after everything this cruel world had thrown at them.

Love was why he was hiding near the river instead of being looked after in Camp Jaha. There were scars and marks on his body that no one else needed to see, no one but him. Torture and war never left a man whole.

The cool river water cleansed his visible wounds, but the invisible ones would take much longer to heal. He wondered if he was patient enough to wait for that.

“Bellamy?” Clarke’s voice was panicked.

That was not a good sound. He’d learned to read her moods from the sound of her voice, and this sounded like worry and a decent dosage of fear. So he pulled his shirt over his damp torso and dragged his weary body in the direction of her voice.

“Clarke?” he tried not to worry her even more. “What do you need?”

Cutting through the typical bullshit was the only way to get stuff done around here. There was no time for lengthy reunions and recaps of what they had been doing - there was always another crisis right around the corner.

“Where the hell were you?” the righteous blaze of fury stepping out from behind the trees was not amused with his perceived tardiness. “You brought everyone home and then you just disappeared!”

This was not the time to worry about the bags under her eyes or about the dried blood on her face and arms. This was the time for reassurance that he would still be by her side for their next battle, no matter the opponent.

“You had other concerns,” he reminded her. “There were lives that needed saving, and I was fine. I’m still fine. Now tell me what the problem is.”

“You’re the problem,” she snapped at him.

They were finally face to face again, and now they actually had the time to have a conversation that wasn’t about battle tactics. The problem was that he had nothing to say that would make this any less terrible. If he told her about his feelings for her, it was going to be impossible for them to work together. He needed to be able to work with her or he was going to lose it again.

“I’m fine,” he put on a smile that was at least semi-convincing - or so he thought.

“You are a terrible liar, Bellamy,” Clarke was speaking more softly now, less angry and more exasperated. “I can see your wounds through your shirt.”

Well, his reasons for lying had nothing to do with her ability to see right through his lies. It had everything to do with making himself believe that he’d been strong - even though he knew better than that.

“Just a few minor scrapes,” he shrugged, and pretended that action did not hurt.

“I will be the judge of that,” Doctor Clarke Griffin had taken over again.

It never failed to astound him how she could change so quickly from Warrior Queen Clarke Griffin to the comforting sternness of Doctor Clarke Griffin. Just minutes ago she was the commander, berating her second about his disappearing act. Now she was checking on the slashes on his arm - and he knew the bruises on his torso were next on her list.

“You did good out there, Bellamy,” her reassuring tone of voice stung more than the fingers probing his wounds. “You brought them back. And you managed to save Grounder royalty in the process.”

Only he did terribly out there - he was scared all of the time and he lost it several times over and he still was not sure if he was ever going to be the same again. After all this, he was starting to understand Finn so much better - it was easier to not have to deal with reality anymore. Reality was exhausting and painful and it just never ended.

“No,” he shook his head.

“No, what?” Clarke lifted his chin to tend to the blood on his neck.

Bellamy avoided her gaze, too afraid of what emotions she might see in his eyes. Clarke did not need his problems on top of the load she was undoubtedly carrying. In his absence, she’d grown into the leader their people needed, and he was sure there had been many difficult decisions involved with that. Why would he burden her even more?

No, it was best not to tell her about the reality of being in a cage, or of hanging upside down and feeling your lifeforce drain second by second. He had given up, and that was the worst admission he’d have to make. He had taken a look at the light at the end of the tunnel and beckoned it to come closer.

“I failed you,” his eyes focused on the tips of the trees. “I failed them all.”

It was their faces that he still saw in his sleep. Harper wasting away, Octavia being taken and tortured until nothing was left but a shell of the girl he raised. He saw Miller and Monty left in pieces by the evil president’s son. He saw the Doctor experimenting on Jasper and Raven - he saw Clarke torn apart, all because of him.

“You should have let me rot,” he pushed out the words with great pain.

“What is wrong with you?” Clarke had to push, just had to keep pushing. “Something is bothering you, and you need to tell me before it eats you alive.”

It was already far too late for that. He’d been swallowed whole, and he was not sure why he was even still here, still breathing air that he did not deserve to take into his unworthy lungs. There were people no longer breathing because of him, and still he drew breath. How did Clarke not understand that?

Why did she have to keep pushing?

“I don’t need to tell you a damn thing,” he broke under her pressure. “I already told you plenty. I told you how deeply I failed our people. That should be bad enough.”

Octavia was the only person he had not completely failed yet, and that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with his sister’s strength of mind and body. He had been a terrible leader, and he’d grown into a terrible brother as well. He did not deserve any of Clarke’s care - he did not deserve to have his wounds patched and his soul healed.

“I’m a terrible person, Clarke,” he sighed heavily. “I’ve killed people and hundreds have died because of my mistakes. I watched people die while I did nothing, while I just saved my own ass. I should have died in that mountain.”

A part of him wished desperately that he actually had died inside that place. He wished for a heroic death that somehow made everything right again - even though he knew that he had committed wrongs that could never be righted, not by any action. His ledger was all in red, and there was nothing he could do about that.

“You have never been more wrong,” she took his face in her hands, ostensibly to clean up the wounds on his jaw, all the while making sure he looked at her. “You aren’t any of that, Bellamy. You have done so many good things. You saved all of our lives a hundred times over. You are the reason we managed to end this war.”

He scoffed loudly. He was not the reason for anything but pain, and he wished Clarke would just give up on him and spend her energy on more important business. The alliance with the Grounders was not going to hold forever - they needed to be prepared. The sanity and health of Bellamy Blake were of no importance compared to the greater good.

“Don’t blow me off,” she warned him, once again filled with her typical brand of righteous fury. “I know you, Bellamy Blake. And while you have made mistakes, you have done everything to make things right. You freed the people in Mount Weather, Bellamy, freed our friends and the grounders. You did that.”

The second she finished cleaning the wounds on his face, he turned away from her again. He couldn’t stand listening to her praising him at this point. There was nothing he had done that deserved praise - he had only done what he could, and it was not nearly enough. It was never going to be enough.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk,” Clarke had decided to just let him be.

If that elusive moment ever occurred, if he ever did want to talk about his many failings, but he was sure that he was just going to push those feelings down. That was what he was best at, after all.

He took a deep breath as he stood up, staring at the water in the hopes of it revealing some hidden secret that would fix everything. The silence of the woods was appreciated, only the distant rumblings of the camp audible to his ears. That, and Clarke Griffin’s steady breathing as she continued to stand by him.

Was she just never going to give up on him? Secretly, he hoped she would always be here, quietly supporting him.

Her smaller hand slipped into his trembling one as she laid her head on his shoulder. With a deep breath, he pressed a kiss to her hair and rested his head on hers.

When he spoke, his voice was slightly hoarse.

“Thanks.”

 

 


End file.
